One Rainy Night
by tsukamatopudding
Summary: "America could no longer stand it. The ticking of the clock in his dull room, the slow passing of time, the sound of wind and rain pounding on his bedroom window..."
1. Never Leave Me

America could no longer stand it. The ticking of the clock in his dull room, the slow passing of time, the sound of wind and rain pounding on his bedroom window. He dragged himself out of bed. Rubbing his eyes, he flailed around, his hand looking for his glasses. He soon slipped them on, and sat for a few minutes, letting his eyes focus. Staring out the window, he watched the patterns of the water running down the glass, making it look warped. The wind blasted against the side of the house, a loud noise that almost drained out the side of the rain.

He shivered lightly, goose bumps appearing on his bare skin. He only had on boxers, and it wasn't that warm in his house. He rubbed his hands over his arms, and some of the goose bumps disappeared, though he still remained chilly. He looked at his skin, pale in the dim light coming from the moon, though he wasn't sure how any light got through the thick clouds overhead.

He lay back, and focused on deep breaths, but all of the sounds still bugged him, causing him to frown.

"Water." He said. "I'll go downstairs, get some water, and go back to sleep."

He trudged downstairs, his muscles aching from being stiff for so long. The chilly tiles of the kitchen floor brought the goose bumps back, and he decided against water. Water was cold, too. He decided to have some hot chocolate. He stood around lazily, leaning on the counter, waiting for his milk to boil. The time on the microwave said it was almost one o'clock in the morning.

"I wonder if Iggy's sleeping through this..." America mumbled to himself. He had invited Britain over to hang out for the weekend, and the older country was sleeping, supposedly, upstairs. "He's used to rain, a lot of it. Probably asleep."

Bubbles started to appear, and America grabbed some chocolate, and plopped into the white substance. He stirred it carefully; watching as it slowly melted, and added a little butter and some sugar. _Iggy always liked my hot chocolate._

The thought of the other country brought a smile to the young blond's lips. Iggy was a lot of fun to be around. Even if he was grumpy and hopelessly sarcastic, he had a good sense of humor, and was always willing to listen to America's problems.

America finished with the hot chocolate, and placed some in a mug, holding it with a death grip, trying to warm his icy hands. He took a sip.

_Ahhh..._He thought. _Just what I needed._

He padded back up to his room, and sat down on his bed gently, so as not to upset his precious, warm, cargo. He took little sips here and there, trying to make it last. He was facing the window, legs crossed, mug in hand, when some lightning struck, and momentarily lit up the surrounding area. A clap of thunder sounded, and it was so loud it shook the house. America whimpered slightly, he had always hated storms.

When he was smaller, he had crawled into bed with England, to have some relief from the deep sounds of clouds slamming together. Now, though, he and England were slightly awkward together. They had had sex, before, but their relationship had staled. Fortunately, their friendship was stronger than ever.

America sighed as he thought about the countless times they had made love, the times they made each other cry out in pleasure. England had been the only one America had ever gone that far with. He knew it wasn't normal, because England was practically his mother and father, but things were different than in the human world.

_The human world. _He thought scornfully. _Why is it so easy there? You love who you love, and nobody pitches a fit, or runs off at the mouth about treaty violations and such._

Deep down inside, America knew why he and England weren't physically involved anymore. Too much protest, too much trouble, too much this, too much that...

A sigh escaped his lips. _Life used to be so easy. We'd just go at it when we were both in the mood. No talk of terrorists, national defense. What's England going to do to me, anyways? Give me STD's? That's a human thing, not a country thing..._

He heard motion in the room next to his. He looked up, hopeful. _Maybe he's going to..._

He put his head back down, defeated. _No, he wouldn't. We could, but I don't think he'd want that._

America swirled the last dregs of chocolate around in his cup, and sipped them down. He shivered as the gritty, left-over chocolate scraped itself down his throat. He looked out the window again. More booms filled the night. A real thunderstorm had come.


	2. I'll Never Leave You

Augh! This took me so long to update, sorry! I've been busy, with that weird thing called "real life". And it's my birthday on Wednesday, the 28th, so I'm trying to get all of my homework (that I should be doing now) done so I have nothing to do on Wednesday. Anyways, the lemon is coming soon, so don't fret! I would've put it in this one, but, well…I don't own Hetalia! (Wish I did, though). I didn't have a beta-reader, so there may be minor (or major) mistakes.

Chilly breath washed down America's back, and a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist. A form pressed itself onto his back, and he jerked slightly, startled.

"England, is that you?"

America's voice echoed dully throughout the room.

"Yeah." The Brit's voice murmured tenderly into his ear. "What's wrong? I heard you go downstairs. Nightmare?"

America's head hung a little lower. "Yeah."

England slid onto the bed, holding America's chin with his hand delicately, glancing at his long-time friend with some concern. "What's wrong? You can tell me, okay? You know that?"

"I…can't."

England's whole face betrayed his surprise. America could only guess that his refusal to share his feelings with the green-eyed nation was what was causing the other man to look so dreadfully pained.

"I-sorry!" America's voice broke on the last word, and he hurled himself on Britain, burying his face into his companion's chest as muffled sobs broke the dim silence. Britain's face softened.

"Hey, it's alright." England said soothingly, his hand tracing America's shoulder blades. "I get bad ones too, memories. From wars, mostly."

America lifted his head, his eyes swimming with tears.

_How could I be so stupid?_ He said to himself. _How could I forget that Britain must feel this too? I'd forgotten that, though we both shared a lot of pain together, he was around a lot longer, must've seen some pretty bad things…_

"America?"

The younger blond lifted his head, to meet eyes with Britain. "I'm sorry. For everything, Britain. I know I-I caused you a lot of pain. I'm sorry…"

The Brit smiled again, and put rested his forehead on America's. "It was something I was willing to endure, for you. When you rebelled, and you won, I hurt, but I was proud, too. I knew you wouldn't be mine forever. But then, when you got older, you…came back to me. It hurt then, too, knowing how much you must've hated me in those early days, having to be in conferences all the time. It hurt, but I loved you, even then, even when I could still see scars…"

"And I endured pain from my heart as well. When you grew up I…fell in love with you. Sure, you may have pissed me off, but I still loved you. The pain was from not knowing."

America looked at Britain, full, blue, glassy orbs staring into forest green ones, as he looked at his lover.

"And when I found out that you loved me, I experienced pain from having to hide it, and pain the first time you and I made love.

That hurt, but I felt wonderful soon after. I was so happy that you came back to me, so unbearably happy. And then…we started growing apart. Others found out about…about us, and-I couldn't keep loving you like that. Others said it was wrong…"

The Brit shook his head. "Pain."

America's head jerked a little at that one word.

"You've experienced it, too." Britain said softly. "I don't forget easily. You said you felt pain a lot. You don't show it, but I know you. How could I not? You feel pain…"

"Britain."

America's voice brought Britain out of his camaraderie. "Yeah?"

"You're right."

The Brit looked confused again. "About what?"

"The pain." America said. "All of it."

As he spoke, his head rested against Britain's chest, and tears started leaking out of his eyes. He shook slightly.

"I loved you…always. And it hurt, not knowing. You're right about that." He gasped, the sound echoing strangely in the room around them. "And when I found out you did care for me that way, I was overjoyed. We made love all the time for a while, and then…you started acting like you didn't care anymore. You told me why, but is that really it? Or do you not-not love me anymore?"

Britain stopped breathing. He held his breath until he was sure he could control himself, and then he grabbed America's shoulders, forcing him to look into his eyes. "You-really think I don't love you?"

He had meant to speak with a normal tone, but his question came out as a strangled whisper. He could feel the moments ticking by until he gasped for air, and America spoke.

"It feels that way."

The older blond shook his head, angry at himself.

"I didn't stop making love to you-because I wanted to. I wanted the opposite. I wanted you love, whenever, wherever, like we used to make love whenever we felt like it." He smiled now, at memories. "But then I realized something."

America looked back up into his companion's eyes.

"You would be so much better off with somebody-somebody else." He shook his head again. "Not with me. I'm old, and just…so different than you! You're just, I thought-"

"Stop."

America's voice sounded terrible while speaking that one word. It echoed around in Britain's head, akin to a fluttering bird. He sounded sad and happy all at once, though neither was sure which was winning.

"I wanted you." America said forcefully. "I still want you! And you-stopped loving me because you cared what everyone else would think?"

Britain nodded, hesitantly.

"_Fuck _everyone else!" America shouted, putting his hands on Britain's shoulders and shaking him. "I want you to be with me, always! You said you still love me? Then show me that you do! I thought, for the longest time that you decided that you didn't like me, and that you were trying to throw me away nicely!"

America stopped to gasp for air, and he buried his face into the crook of Britain's neck.

"Please…I feel so empty!" Tears sprang into the Brit's eyes at the hollow sound of America's voice. "Don't let me be empty, don't! I want-I want you, Britain!"

He wailed, a haunted noise, and it sent goose bumps throughout Britain's body. America trembled like a leaf, and his sobs pierced the noise of rain and thunder.

"No America, don't!" Britain cried. He pushed America onto the bed, and lay on top of him, nuzzling his neck. "Don't cry, please…"

He began to kiss America's neck, softly, sending goose bumps cascading down America's body like chilly water. A heat began to burn dimly in America's heart.

"England…"

England looked up, green eyes gazing softly at blue.

"Anything." He said. "Anything for you."

America reached up to touch England's cheek, trying to wipe away tears that had appeared there.

"Don't cry, please." He said, echoing the Brit's earlier plea. "I'm sorry, we shouldn't be doing this."

Britain shook his head slowly back and forth.

"You know-" He started. "You never really seem understand _how_ much I love you. You aren't realizing that…you're my entire world."

America's eyes widened.

"What do you…what do you mean?"

"I mean-" Said Britain. "That I am selfishly in love with you. I will never let go. I will never leave you alone. Even if you want me gone, I'll keep coming back. Because I'm selfish."

America's brow creased, confusing shaping his face.

Britain sighed. "I've done so many things to help you grow, even though I knew you probably wouldn't care for me, at first. After you-"

Britain shuddered wildly, remembering the hollow pain he had felt after America had left, permanently, for the first time. The younger nation wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a hug, with him shivering on his chest.

"Ssshh, Britain." America cooed, as if to a baby. "I'm back. I'll be here for you too."

Slowly, the older country drew his face up to America's, until their noses were touching. Britain breathed in America's scent until he thought he would burst from the sweet smell of coffee and soap. America was staring into England's eyes, swimming in green pools of warmth. Neither ever wanted to move, but some thunder sounded, and America flinched, causing Britain to smile.

"Still afraid of thunder, huh?"


End file.
